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It hit him dead-on, with the audience looking away, not wanting to see their prince reduced to a pile of melted bones, but though steam and smoke filled the air around Seraph, he was unharmed, albeit soaked. His aura had protected him, undoing the magic enhancement on the water, so when it hit him, it was chemically inert. The moment the blast ended, Seraph dropped his defenses, gasping for air from fatigue. What he would give to be even half as powerful as he was a year ago. He didn’t have time to rest, as Phune immediately commenced another attack. A continuous jet of water slammed against his raised palms and clashed with the light aura before him. Every loose drop hitting the ground smoked from the acidic burn, a reminder of what would happen if his strength or focus faltered for even a second.

“Uh, okay…sure.” I said with little conviction. Carol looked around the island, finally spying what she wanted. She leaned over and grabbed a bottle of olive oil.

“Don’t you lecture me. You’re just fighting so that people will like you. You’re so desperate for their approval, yet have the nerve to call me spiteful. My path as a warrior doesn’t lead to acknowledgment or people carrying me on their shoulders. I don’t fight in life because I want to be idolized. I fight to understand myself, to know my limits, to know what I’m capable of, and to go even farther. The challenges I’ve overcome, the setbacks I’ve endured, the boundaries I’ve surpassed! Those are what define me as a man, as a warrior! I walk this path because life is most valuable when you have to fight for it!”